Battlefield 2142 Chronicles: Loch Shin
by Forohe Toxophilus
Summary: The 436th EU Infantry is on a recovery hiatus in North Scotland. Everything is as is expected; frostbite, cold food and loads of 'love taps'. The one day things start looking up for them, everything goes horribly wrong...
1. On Watch

A/N- I did this in my spare time. I've read a few BF2142 fics, and the EU are always the bad guys. And I see that people like to support the other team in 2142, 'cause everyone portrays the EU as the good guys in the game. All depends on your point of view, I suppose. In any case, this is my decided chronicles. This'll be Loch Shin. I'm sure to come out with more, so keep your eyes peeled if you like these kinds of stories.

By the way, this isn't done. I'm just working on Chapter two now.

Battlefield 2142 Chronicles

EU army in Northern Scotland- 436th "Ghost" Infantry division.

PAC forces in area- unknown, and highly unlikely.

Location- Near Loch Shin.

A lone sentry sat at her post, hefting her Voss Light Assault Rifle to her knee and checking it over. The scope she managed to swipe from the sniper range at Liverpool three weeks ago seemed to be in good shape, despite the cold. She was looking over Loch Shin about two kilometers away from her base at Glencassley Castle, and to this point, she just couldn't see anything of value. A few deer. A couple of fishermen were on the Loch, 'cause even though it was cold, there were still a couple persistent fish.

"Private McCaine, you frozen yet?" came the prudent voice of her commander from the castle. Rowley wasn't a very big time commander. He only became the commander because the captain didn't survive the incredibly bad luck the company had in Switzerland two months earlier.

Timothy Rowley was only a lieutenant in charge of the fifty two men of the former five hundred thirty they'd started with. Since they'd normally would have been made to report to somewhere in France if the 432nd hadn't had seventy two survivors, the entire fact that Private Rebecca McCaine was freezing her ass off in northern Scotland, seemed to be a blessing, even if she almost got frostbite the first day.

"I'm still 'ere 'tenant," she replied in her distinctly Londoner accent. She'd belonged to a literature class before the war broke out eight months prior to the present day. As she would say, 'Th' class wus a nice thing, even if we didnae 'ave a heater in the damn building'. A few of her classmates would probably disagree, if they were still alive.

"Good. Get down here, there's hot chow waiting for you."

"Thank ye sir, ye're a Godsend," Rebecca replied frankly, as she didn't really care who heard anything on that channel at that point. She was cold, tired and really overdue for a bath, or some form of cleaning action.

Rebecca started down the hill and waved her hand over her head to get her companion that was near invisible to the naked eye to follow her down. "Let's go Marien."

A sturdy figure slid down from a nearby tree and landed softly in the tibia high snow. It wore a very well made snow camouflaged ghillie suit, and carried the Morretti SR4 Sniper rifle.

"We're going already?" the figure practically whined in a deep masculine voice. He threw back his hood and revealed his worn and creased face, a reminder of the times of hardship and death back in Switzerland.

Since soldiers could only see his face and hair during the times he was on the field, if they even saw him at all, most outside companies believed that he was at least fifty years old. Anybody who was within what was now called "Ghost Company" knew that the man was only twenty seven, and his condition was due to incendiary grenades back in Switzerland. He had managed to get the rest of his squad to safety as he took the brunt of the blasts. His face and torso were permanently scarred, and his hair had changed to a light shade of grey. The reason for the ghillie suit was unknown, except to him. He claimed he preferred it over the active camouflage.

"Yalp Marien. Sounds like there's hot chow too."

"Really?" Marien asked, genuinely surprised. He threw his hood back up as the wind picked up. "Well, I suppose that we deserve it. We've been the only two consistently out here lately."

"Yeah, but tha's only 'cause we don't 'ave fros'bite yet." Rebecca smiled beneath her visor and turned around to face Marien. "It's bettah than the MRE's we've been eatin' for the pas' three weeks, ain't it?"

Marien made a facial shrug beneath his hood and nodded. "I suppose. But they could have just heated them up."

Rebecca laughed and walked forward in a tired swagger. Marien grinned at her behind her back and turned to take one last look at the loch. He saw what he'd seen for the past three weeks he'd been on watch. Loch, fishers, and a big glacier in the distance, slowly advancing since 2138. It was having trouble getting over the Scottish Highlands.

For a moment, he believed he saw an oddity in the forest around the loch. There seemed to be a strange movement near the edge of the water, but it flickered away as quickly as it had appeared.

"Huh," he mumbled, looking around for it again, but he wasn't able to spot it.

"Oh well. Probably just the head playing games again." He turned back to face where Rebecca was, only to find that she'd gotten a good twenty meters ahead of him.

"Oi, 'Becca! Wait up, I'm coming too!"

* * *

Sooo... Review?


	2. Cold Reality

A/N- Yeah, so I just kinda did a rather boring chapter previously, so I figure another boring chapter with intense referances to the body part known as the 'Ass' should cheer things up! All bad puns aside, this should explain a few things about the 436th that you may not have known

Oh, yeah, forgot disclaimers last time-

DISCLAIMER- I do not own EA, which in turn owns Battlefield 2142 and all other Battlefield games. I do not own the names Loch Shin or Glencassley Castle, which are actual places in Scotland, which I don't own either. I just play the game, so if EA could be awesome and _NOT_ sue me for this, that'd be awesome.

Enjoy!

* * *

EU Forces- 436th EU Infantry Division.

PAC Forces- None known in area.

It was 13:32 when Privates McCaine and Percival were ordered to come back to Castle Glencassley by Lieutenant Rowley. By the time that they'd gotten back at 15:24, and even though it was only two kilometers, they felt like death on pot. Tired, cold and hungry.

Rebecca held the door open for Marien to enter the castle hall, then into their bunk area in which they were able to remove their gear that they hadn't changed out of in about three days. It was too cold to do that. They finally got the shipment of Heat Armour two days prior, and it was dispersed amongst the soldiers defending the Castle first. Sentries were secondary priorities.

Rebecca shed her combat gear and quickly donned the Heat Armour that conformed immediately to her slim, toned body. She was only about 1.4 meters tall, and around 70-80 kilos of muscle, bone and organ. Her face was that of a kindly girl that should have been just getting into college, only nineteen years old. Her hair was a dark brown and her eyes were an eerie grey colour that seemed to shift hues as her emotions spiked and fell. Those grey, almost translucent at that point, eyes never seemed to be worried, never had really seen the death and confusion of combat. The only combat she had been in was halted after she went unconscious from an explosion as the rest of the company retreated.

Marien was almost jealous at how she was so lucky to be picked up after an orbital bombardment, unconscious and unaware of how badly the company had been slaughtered. She obviously learned that her company was destroyed after she'd woken up, but the fact that she had not seen it left her less scarred than the rest of the soldiers.

"Hey, you gonna put your skinnies on or can I have them?" asked Rebecca abruptly as Marien drifted, or more precisely, was dragged back into reality.

He suddenly realized that he was half naked from the waist up and the beads sweat that developed on his chest on the hike back were starting to congeal. He grinned embarrassedly and pulled on his own skin-tight uniform that immediately warmed him up.

Rebecca was just putting on her spare pare of pants with an extra set of equipment so she wouldn't be completely useless as she meandered all the way down the tunnels to the mess hall. Most of the complex was underground so the heat could stay within one area, and everyone could get warm at some point. She also appreciated the fact that there was a castle over her head by the indication that she'd be relatively safe during an orbital bombardment, or any form of artillery for that matter.

The young woman turned to go out of the bunk room, and as she was leaving she gave a hard slap to Marien's buttocks. Marien didn't turn, or even act surprised. All he did was return the favor.

As the times went on, the 436th had developed a strange way of showing their appreciation and support of each other. They decided after Switzerland that everyone's ass was their own ass. If someone didn't cover their buddy's ass, they were as good as the PAC. And if they managed to survive, and their buddy didn't, the Lieutenant would let them take a walk around Loch Shin for a few days. Granted, they survived that, then they'd be let back in, albeit cautiously.

The slaps were affectionately known as, 'Love-taps', and everyone was required to do them, to anyone within 'tapping' distance. Male, female, didn't matter. Their ass was everyone's, and everyone covered their ass. And seeing that their company went from five-hundred thirty soldiers to fifty two in a day, anyone can understand the need for camaraderie from their fellow soldiers. The assurance that they were covered calmed everyone down quite a bit.

Rebecca continued down the hallway, giving out and receiving three more 'love-taps' on her way to the mess hall. Once within, she grabbed some chow, which was MRE's in hot broth.

"An' of course Marien was right," she mumbled taking up her soup and looking around for a place to sit. Of course, she was welcome everywhere, but she'd prefer to sit with some of her squad, and chat about the exercises all of them had been performing throughout the day.

She spotted a large woman known simply as 'Lee'. No one really could pronounce her true Norse name, but Lee had settled with a simple name that everyone could understand. Lee.

Rebecca grinned and walked over to Lee, sitting down next to her on the bench. "How're ye doin' Lee?" she asked, then sipping at the hot broth.

Lee could have been considered a giant in her age. She was a mere twenty three years old, and she was about two meters tall, weighed in at about 130 kilos and had the strength of a male soldier. If there was any better support gunner in the world, Rebecca had yet to find them.

Lee turned her light brown eyes onto her smaller companion and smiled. "I am doing all right. This weather reminds me of home."

Rebecca rolled her eyes and took another sip of her soup. "You're just a tall, cold blooded freak sometimes, you know that?"

Lee grinned even broader and laughed in a deep alto voice. "And you're just a short, smart Brit, Luck," she replied, using the nickname Rebecca had acquired after surviving the orbital strike back in the Switzerland campaign. Another soldier survived it as well, and she was also part of Rebecca's squad.

They'd become known as _Yahweh's Favored_ once they returned, because two of the five soldiers in fire-team Bravo survived where no one could have. It had to be an act of Gods good grace that they remained alive.

Corporal Jeanne Piper walked over to the table with a grave face and no food. She was the other survivor, but she was only known by her rank and name. Not by any fancy shmancy nickname. She did not fall unconscious during the bombardment and witnessed her fellow soldiers fall and die during the attack. Corporal Piper since then had become extremely quiet and secluded, but did not let her soldiers down. Even she had to participate in the 'love-taps'.

"Wha's up Corporal?" asked Rebecca, grinning wildly in a failed attempt to cheer up Jeanne.

Jeanne nodded politely to the other two women and sat down, placing her hands in front of her as she always in preparation to tell her squad-members something important. "We've got an assignment from the LT. Get your gear and let's move out."

Rebecca groaned and tilted her head to the side in despair. "I jus' got bloody back. Wha's so important that I 'ave ta go back out in the bleedin' cold?"

"We're going for a walk around Shin Private. LT thinks there's something there that shouldn't be."

* * *

Most people should know that Reviews are what writers live and thrive off of. So drop me one, even if you didn't like the story! Constructive criticism is welcome, and anon. reviews are as welcome as signed ones! Don't be shy- You know you want to. Hell, even leave one in a different language. I'll get some of my friends to try and translate!


	3. Names

A/N- Now, I figure you're thinking, "Who's this loser that keeps updating a story that's getting no action?"

Well, I suppose I am the loser, but I am also the one who is guaranteing (?) that there _will_ be some action within the next two chapters. Mostly individual combat. Consider yourself lucky to get to know the 436th now, 'cause there might not be any time to later...

* * *

EU Forces in area- 436th Infantry

PAC Forces in area- Unknown regiment

Echo Squad assembled in double time to report before Lieutenant Rowley. After Jeanne came bearing the bad news, the squad geared up as fast as they could, putting the whole company on edge. When something went wrong, the whole place seemed to sense it. Especially when they were this short on soldiers.

Lieutenant Timothy Rowley was a fair sized soldier, 1.7 meters tall and weighing in at 130 kilos. He had brown hair, pale green eyes, and the apocalypse must have been occurring to see him out of a military uniform. That day he was wearing his full combat gear, minus his helmet, which put everyone on edge, if they weren't already.

His helmet sat on the table that he'd set up at the beginning of the three week occupation of the castle. He used it for everything from maps to stowing away gear, to piling weapons and ammunition on it, which is what its use was now. The helmet was next to a pile of spare Lambert Carbine clips, as the aforementioned weapon was on Lieutenant Rowley's back. Next to those were a pile of assorted incendiary, fragmentation and EMP grenades, all ready to go.

In his hand he held a PDA, updating him on the topography of his surroundings, and informing the Major in charge of the sector that there might be some enemy movement within the northern section of the Loch.

As he looked over the maps one last time, the remaining two privates of Echo Squad raced in, weapons in a parade order fashion. They slowed their breathing to better suit the Lieutenant's needs for calmness within the room.

Rowley exited out of his maps and replaced the PDA into its pouch upon his utility belt. He then looked up to the assembled squad and prepared to inform them of their potential peril. He knew each man in the company personally, and none of these soldiers were an exception.

Rowley grasped his hands behind his back and distributed his weight between his feet, which were shoulder width apart, to appear in a perfect line formation. "Sign off Echo squad," he ordered in his soft baritone manner.

"Lance Corporal Jonas Vonuar reporting as ordered sir," said the now leader of Echo, since Sergeant Pierre Cresant died of his wounds almost a month back.

Jonas was an average individual, whom always tried to perfect his soldierly-ness while on duty. He'd never disobey an order and always followed protocol. He never complained or questioned his leaders, as long as he served under them.

Out of uniform, or off duty, he was a whole other person. The kind of person that loved to take risks and always tried something new. When they were taking a stop in London, he whisked away to a local thrift area and got his hair dyed the colour of Marien's, possibly out of thanks. Only he and Marien knew. He also spiked it.

"Private Rebecca McCaine reporting in sir," Rebecca continued, passing the turn down to the next in line to her right.

"Private Marien Percival, here as ordered."

"Private Gunda Lee, awaiting orders."

"Corporal Jeanne Piper, good to go sir."

"Private Cathryn Facil, present sir."

Cathryn, despite her name, was not an easy person to get along with. Her parents had been paramedics and even doctors, but by the time she was born, one was working an ass-end job at a Macys and the other was a mean drunk. She was raised in a small town outside of Caceres, and never really got a good education. Most of it was via old and outdated medical datapads and books. She'd managed to get the attention of a local medical school, but her grades were not good enough to get in.

So, she resolved to help others through the military. Again, her outdated medical knowledge was laughed at quite a lot, but the EU could use all the help they could get. Thus, she became a field medic and was transported to support the 436th. She never could get the images of Switzerland out of her head at that point.

"Private Morris Archembeaut, ready sir."

Archembeaut wasn't really a battle ready soldier; he was only there because of the retreating 436th. He was part of the 285th, which he later learned was destroyed in a number of attacks and rearguard actions, trying to cover the 436th's retreat. Since he owed his life to the men of the 436th, he figured the best way to honour his friend's memories was to continue the fight against the PAC.

Rebecca tilted her head and sniffled. Her nose was getting runny again. "Uhm, sir?" she asked, saluting as she did so. "What was the point of that? You know all our names."

"I know," Rowley replied, smiling softly. "I just wanted to hear all of you speak before I gave the briefing."

He sighed and waved his hand. "Stand at ease," he ordered, re-displacing his weight again, and looked to the floor like a child caught trying to take a second cookie.

"I believe you are all aware that I have my suspicions about the area around the Loch, and I believe command thinks the same. In a result, they have ordered me to send a squad out and find out what's going on out there."

"That's all nice and wonderful sir," Marien said, immediately after Rowley finished. "But that doesn't explain to us why you're wearing combat gear."

"Ah yes," Rowley replied, looking at them with a slight hint of smugness. "I figure, the best way to find out information is to go myself."

* * *

Ahem... Reviews, maybe, possibly? I accept anon. reviews, so don't be shy.


	4. Ангелы вызываемого абонента

A/N- Now, I figure, you're thinking right now, "Ah, not another chapter with nothing going on in it." Well, you're wrong. There is some combat. If you find it morally disturbing, well, then, get used to it. That's war. Nothing is moral about it.

tanks60808- Thank you for being my first reviewer! I enjoy hearing from a fellow 2142 freak. I hope to see your story up online soon!

Caracaos- You wanted action, well, I hope this suffices. And yes, of course I'm going to keep writing this. As well as a few more, focusing on both sides of the war. Oh, and a 'Must-read'? That just makes my day! I hope this chapter fullfills your expectations, and I look forward to hearing back from the both of you!

And anyone else who wants to review, of course. Drop me a compliment, or a criticisim. It means you read the story. That is the true meaning of why this is here.

Here it goes!

* * *

EU Forces in area- 436th Infantry

PAC Forces in area- Unknown regiment

There was an odd pause. After several moments, Jonas, surprisingly, spoke out against it.

"Sir?" he began, with a look of astonished concern falling upon his face. "Isn't that kind of risky? I mean, if you're right and there is a largely superior force out there, what good are seven troopers and a Lieutenant going to be? Cannon fodder?"

The Lieutenant sighed. "From what I know, the enemy doesn't know we're here. An orbital scan would only show a castle and a few locals moving around the Loch. That's why I've been telling you to stay below the trees and don't go into the open." He paused in consideration. "You have been staying out of sight, haven't you all?"

Jonas responded with a resolute "Yes sir", but Rebecca merely shook her head and smiled. _Of course. That's what he wanted us to do that for._

The Lieutenant started to hook his equipment onto his armoured vest and hefted up his carbine. "Let's get out there. I don't want to be caught off guard."

With that, Lieutenant Rowley led the squad out of his 'office' and into the main walkway, which in turn was into the cold freezing wind that blew miniature ice shurikuns around, cutting away at any uncovered skin. Luckily enough for the 436th, command had issued them the ever vitally important facemasks and bandanas to keep the hellish breeze from maiming any of their soldier's facial orifices.

The gate guard engaged the generator that powered the system to open the four ton gate. The generator screeched in an audible protest throughout the entire process, due to the coldness and the ice that would build up between uses. The gate was regularly opened every three or so hours so the joints wouldn't freeze together. The castle itself had not been updated since the 'Renovation Revolution of 2078' which in itself, wasn't prepared for any sort of ice-age.

Rowley led the group of eight out of the castle and into the snow covered forests of Northern Scotland, with the slow and steady determination that only could have been stopped by the worst possible outcome.

Jonas put it on himself to take point once out of the castle. Lieutenant Rowley nodded in apprehension of the coming question of what the Lance Corporal could do with his team. Jonas then ordered Marien to go out about fifty meters off to the left of the squad and find high ground that he could cover them from a long range.

Lee held up the back, as always with Facil a little ahead of her. Archembeaut didn't try to move very far away from the group, but was determined to have Corporal Piper's back covered, which in turn covered Rebecca's back.

"Percival, you'll tell us if you run into anything, right?" came Jonas's voice over the comm unit in Marien's ear.

"Sir, if I didn't, you'd probably eat my ass for dinner," Marien replied sarcastically, smiling to himself and continuing on with his trudge through the deep snow to high ground.

"Okay. See that you stay alive, alright private?"

"Yes sir," Marien said, keeping his rifle in a ready to stock position.

He never lost sight of his objective, which was a particularly tall tree on top of the tall hill he was slowly making his way onto. So when another figure seemed to appear out of nowhere on it, Marien was most certainly surprised.

Marien was not expecting the figure to be there, much less in PAC armour. The figure wore assault recon armour, and carried a Krylov FA-37. The soldier seemed to be aiming down at something.

Marien took his time getting to the figure, making sure that there was no one else around. Satisfied, he moved up towards the soldier.

He heard the person talking in a higher pitched voice than he anticipated, in Russian. He kept to the shadows and never moved on his feet, always on his belly, to minimize movement and sound. He quickly pulled out his knife and began to move in faster, his heart pounding very fast and adrenaline beginning to flow through him.

Suddenly, as though the heart pounding noted him out of the immense silence, the soldier turned and saw Marien not two meters away.

All of Marien's stealth and caution flew out the metaphorical window and he leapt at the soldier, who had replaced their own weapon with a knife, anticipating the move from the sniper.

Marien landed on top of the soldier and brought his knife down, only to be caught by the hand of the PAC soldier, who then brought their own knife up to strike.

Marien caught the opposing soldiers arm and thus locked the two into a deadly arm wrestling match. Marien could feel his arms begin to push further down onto the soldier, who seemed to start to panic.

The PAC soldier suddenly brought their knee up to Marien's groin, causing an immediate withdrawal from the sniper. Marien backed off maybe two meters, giving the PAC soldier enough time to get up and retrieve their weapon.

Marien played along with the pain, even though his mind instantly dismissed it after the blow, and let the PAC soldier gather their wits, before he lunged again, knocking the weapon out of their hands. He followed up with a straight arm punch to the faceplate of the PAC soldier's helmet.

The soldier fell backwards and landed on the snow, where Marien leapt on top of the prone figure. The helmet fell off as Marien landed on top of the soldier, revealing the face of his adversary.

A young girl was revealed behind the mask, not older than Rebecca, if that. Marien paused as his knife tickled the skin of her neck, stunned that the girl was strikingly similar to Rebecca. The same grey, translucent eyes, the same brown mess of hair, and some similar facial features.

"Пожалуйста, не убить меня," the girl begged, swallowing hard and tears swelling to her eyes.

Marien blinked and mentally shook his head. That was Russian, not Rebecca.

"Пожалуйста, будь любезным, пожалуйста," the girl said again, her voice pleading in a sweet alto tone that sounded distinctly familiar to him.

Marien shook his head angrily and flicked his wrist slicing the girl's throat open, letting her lifeblood spill onto the virgin snow, its innocence departing in an instant.

Marien sat there for a moment and breathed heavily, not really contemplating on what he'd just done. He turned on his comm unit and spoke somberly into it.

"Echo Squad, we have first contact."

* * *

Yeah, I do feel guilty about killing her. But, it conveys the message that is crucial to any war story: War is Hell, and anyone who can't fight, dies.


End file.
